Of Dwarfs And Daughters
by Classic-Color
Summary: At the age of 18 Beatrice arrives at King's landing, hoping to find her father, not an easy task when all she knows is that he's a great lord and that she has his eyes.. With that knowledge alone (That and what she gathered from every book that ever found its way to the Citadel) she steps into the board of the game of thrones.
1. Chapter 1

**Of Dwarfs And Daughters: Chapter One**

It was a cold night. Not worse than the frozen nights Westeros has known already, yet a night in which people would stay in their warm house and beds if possible. Sadly, for one woman it wasn't possible. She was in the ninth month of her pregnancy, and just went into labor. She was cold and exhausted, the winds stabbing her skin like daggers. With what little strength she had left she crawled her way to the Citadel, where she hoped she would be treated.

Delivering the baby was the easy part; most of the apprentices specialized in anatomy and healing on the way to the first metal on their chain, however, even the maesters' healing skills didn't help saving the baby's mother, who was ill to begin with, adding that to the amount of blood she lost left them with no options but to drug her with milk of the poppy and hope for the end of her suffers.

But the woman didn't give in to her misery so quickly, and on the verge of death, she held her little baby girl close to her chest with shaking, blood-stained hands. She sang to the little one a song with no words, just hoarse whispers as a melody. Tears streamed down her face as she caressed the baby's cheeks. "My beautiful Beatrice, so beautiful. You have your father's eyes. Your mother loves you so much, I'm sorry I have to leave you alone already". Little Beatrice looked at her mother, and almost as if understanding what she was told started crying, tears forming in the corner of the eyes, which were welcomed to this world with the sight of pain and agony.

The woman turned to the two men who were present in the room "My daughter is no ordinary peasant girl" she said.

"Yes well, that's what all mothers say about their children but..." one of the men started replying but was cut off by the other man.

"Who's the baby's father?" the man asked, as he figured the woman must've meant the baby is of royal blood. The mother though, was obviously a commoner, with her ragged clothes and rough hands.

"Her father is a great lord and would repay you generously if you took care of her" the woman spoke mostly to the second man, who seemed more willing to listen to what she said. She handed him her baby, and right after that started coughing blood.

"Please, who's the father?" the man asked once more, but the woman coughs didn't last long and she fell to the bed, dead.

The room was quiet for a split second, no longer was the silence interrupted by the sound of crying or coughing. Then the other man spoke..

"Sometimes I wonder if they're doing it on purpose; leaving us hanging like that, with bits and pieces of a will. People are not careful enough with their crucial last words" the man, whose name was Hemme, grumbled as he approached the dead woman, shutting her eyes so it would look as if she's sleeping. "I once treated a man, an old fool who set a trap to catch a deer but was stupid enough to step into it himself. He wasted his last minutes telling me 'the treasure is buried under...' again and again. I swear on my chain he has repeated that so many times that if he really wanted me to know where the bloody thing is hidden he could have gotten up and fetch it himself."

The other man, Alodin, gave his friend a sad look. It astonished him how cold Hemme could be, ignoring the heartbreaking scene they just witnessed and not caring of the important duty they were assigned to.

Oh yes, the duty. Alodin looked down to the baby in his arms. She was a precious little thing, with delicate features and short strands of golden hair. He was just studying her green eyes as they closed for a long-overdue infant rest. Just like any other new born, she has yet to acknowledge her hands and legs, as they moved frenetically. The palm of her hand tangled in Alodin's long beard and he laughed warmly as he released it from her grasp.

"Little Beatrice, What are we to do with you?" Alodin asked, more to himself than anything, yet Hemme replied "Well, we should give her to someone, I believe there are plenty of brothels around here and they would be happy to receive a future worker for free."

"As much as the idea of selling a newborn as a whore appeals to me I think we should wait for a short time, see if the father of the child comes to claim her" he knew how pathetic his suggestion sound, Beatrice was probably a bastard, and no lord ever came back for his illegitimate children (and the number of bastards who arrived at the Citadel every day were a strong proof of that), and yet, the child was too young to have her fate doomed already.

"Deal with it yourself Alodin, there's no place for babies or girls, let alone both, in the Citadel." Hemme packed his equipment and left the room, leaving Alodin with the baby and the deceased mother.

Hemme was many things; Apathetic, arrogant, cruel even, but he wasn't stupid, and Alodin knew he was right. The child didn't belong in here, but surly it would have been better for her to stay here than anywhere else, so for now, the Citadel would have to do.

* * *

_A/N: I'm not a native speaker, so I apologize for my mistakes, and would be glad to have them pointed out to me._


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Dwarfs And Daughters: Chapter Two**

The Citadel was never accustomed to children, seeing as all its members took an oath of celibacy once joining its ranks, therefore, Alodin was thrown into great confusion when presented with a child to keep.

It was meant to be temporary, and Alodin did try finding a foster family for the child, however, times were difficult and people struggled everyday even without extra mouth to feed. So Beatrice remained there, growing up to the sight of books and the sound of clattering chains.

In Westeros, bastards got a surname of objects that were common in their region, such as Snow in the north and Sand in Dorne, so when Beatrice was born in the Citadel some joked that she should receive the bastard name "Books", a joke that quickly became a fact, and the little girl started wearing the name with pride, and truthfully it couldn't have fit her better; At the age of 3 Beatrice Books taught herself to read, and by the time she was sixteen she read more books than eldest of the maesters and thanks to her eidetic memory - remembered them all.

However, the lack of friends her age left its mark on the girl, who turned from a cheerful toddler to a wise woman all too fast for Alodin's liking. True, he enjoyed having smart conversations with her, answering all her questions, feeding her knowledge, but he missed the time she barely reached his knees and would pull his chains whenever wanting attention, and a partner for a childish game she came up with.

But what's done is done, and little Beatrice was all grown up now and Alodin knew that it won't be long till he would have to say goodbye to her and let her find her own way, oh how he feared this day.

* * *

Beatrice looked around and studied the villagers.

A young man passed her, giving her a meaningful wink.

_This one's too young, he probably wouldn't remember my mother _she decided, and ignored him.

_This one's probably too old to remember anything_ she ruled out an old man who leaned against a hay stack with an unfocused look in his eyes.

She walked slowly, looking for anyone that might be able to help, then she stopped on the entrance of what appeared to be a tavern.

_If anyone could remember my mother, he would be in here_ she thought, and entered the place.

It was midday, yet a few customers could be seen downing what was obviously not their first nor last drink for the day. _It's always wine hour somewhere_ she recalled the old saying, and with a shrug of her shoulders approached a woman who stood behind the bar, probably the tavern owner, or his wife. She was a big woman, her chin threatening to meet her collar bone, and her breast threatening to escape her dress. Aside from that she was rather unmemorable with narrow brown eyes and thin red hair.

"You're a little early to try pick up a customer" the woman gave more attention to the cup she was polishing than to Beatrice.

"I'm… what?... no, I'm not here for that. I'm not a prostitute" Beatrice was thrown off guard for a second then clearing her throat she pulled a parchment from an inner pocket of her cloak.

"Have you ever seen this woman? I have reasons to believe she lived in this town about eighteen years ago" Beatrice held out a drawing of her mother she drew based on Alodin's description and he confirmed it looked just like he remembered her. She loved to draw ever since she could hold a quill pen, and although the Citadel's walls were decorated with paintings drawn by artists who were far more talented than she could ever hope to be, she was satisfied with her drawing skills.

"Maybe, information is not free you know" the woman noted.

Beatrice pulled a silver stag out and held it for the woman to see, then put it on the bar. The woman put the cup down and took the drawing to study it closer.

"Hmm, I think it looks like Olivia".

"Olivia" Beatrice rolled the possible name of her mother on her tongue "What can you tell me about her?" she asked.

"Well, not much, she hasn't been around for years now. I figured she ran off with that lord she fancied so badly…" the woman returned the parchment to Beatrice who took it with shaky hands.

"Sounds like her, please tell me everything you know, about her and about that lord" she asked in excitement. The woman reached her hand forward, Beatrice put another coin in the woman's palm.

"My father took Olivia in from an orphanage, she used to work for him here. Father would put her behind the bar almost every night, 'It brings more customers' he used to tell me" the woman spoke with clear jealousy in her voice "One night a convoy from King's Landing that was on its way to the Arbor visited our tavern, and the next thing you know, Olivia was gone, off to entertain some lord apparently."

Beatrice was relieved to hear her mother wasn't a prostitute, but at the same time, felt anger rushing through her blood to hear that woman describing her mother as mere entertainment.

"She returned in the morning with starry eyes, but wouldn't tell me who she'd been with. She snuck out to meet him the following night as well, and when the convoy continued their journey to the Arbor she wouldn't stop gazing off into the distance and wait for him to be back. It was quite pathetic really. Then she found out she was pregnant, the poor thing. I offered her a potion to wash out the bloody thing from her womb but she refused. When the convoy passed here again on their way back she apparently told the lord that she's carrying his child, and he was presumably thrilled, but then he disappeared. He promised he would come back for her when she'd be nearing the end of her pregnancy."

_But he never did_ Beatrice thought bitterly "What happened next?" she asked. The woman simply raised an eyebrow as if saying "you know the drill", Beatrice made peace with draining her savings for this cause and gave the woman yet another silver stag. "So what happened afterwards?" She asked again.

"I wouldn't know" the woman shrugged "One night she simply vanished, and right on time too, as pretty as she was, she was no longer attracting clients with that big belly of her" the woman said, plain and simple.

_How is that piece of information worth a silver stag? _Beatrice cursed under her breath, then turned to leave the tavern.

"So what is it to you? Who are you?" the greedy woman asked her.

Beatrice stopped and without turning to face the woman said "I'm the bloody thing…"

* * *

Beatrice and Alodin ate their dinner quietly. Only the rattling of their spoons and the tapping of their cups against the wooden table broke the silence occasionally. Beatrice told Alodin everything she found out that day and he took some time to process it.

"So your father never came back for her… for you" he finally said.

"So it would seem" she replied, thoughtfully.

"How does it affect your decision to find him?" he wondered.

"Well…" Beatrice contemplated her words "The possibility that he wants nothing to do with me was always there, and it may have just become more probable, but I still want to know who he is".

"I understand" Alodin sighed, "So what's next for you?".

"The woman from the tavern told me the convoy was from King's Landing and was on its way to the Arbor, it's very likely that they were going there to stock up with wine, and if they did, there would be a record of the convoyers somewhere in the Red Keep." she theorized.

"Isn't the distance from here to King's Landing a bit too long to travel just for the sake of confirming, or more likely, contradicting a hypothesis" Alodin tried one last time to talk her out of the impossible goal she set for herself although he knew it was bound to fail.

"It's the best clue I have" she concluded, stubbornly.

"Perhaps not the best…" Aldoin said and got up and walked to the back of the room. He cameback and handed Beatrice a necklace. "After your mother died I prepared her for burial and removed it from her neck. Everything else she had seemed simple and that was the only thing that stood out".

It was a golden necklace with an icicle shaped crystal hanging from it. The crystal was clear and beautiful, the light from the candles broke on it to magnificent colors.

"That's beautiful! There's no way my mother could have possessed something so luxurious unless she received it as a gift" Beatrice said in awe and wore the necklace.

"That's what I thought too. So I've decided to wait for when you're older to give it to you. But now I think it might be of use to you on your quest" Alodin told her.

She hugged her guardian tightly and whispered "Thank you! You will always be a father to me".

When she released him from the hug he asked her with teary eyes "When will you ride to King's Landing?"

"Tomorrow".

* * *

_A/N: Thank you Marvelmyra for pointing out that there's no way one could read all the books in the Citadel in thirteen years. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Of Dwarfs And Daughters: Chapter Three**

Beatrice planned on leaving the Citadel at first light, however, she didn't take into consideration the long time it would take her to choose a horse. By the time she made up her mind it was already noon, and the stableman was about to murder her cold bloodedly. When she first arrived at the stalls, all wide eyed and curious he was eager to help but as hours dragged on he feared he was going to die there, his miserable soul forever answering questions such as "Which horse has the best stamina?" and "Which horse has the worst temper?"

She finally chose one, a brown Palfrey, she once read in a book called "Five hundred and twenty seven breeds of Horses and where to find them" that the Palfrey were the best horses for long rides, and that specific horse seemed to be friendly, as he leaned to her hand and sniffed it as soon as she got closer. She petted his head gently "You ready to take me to King's Landing?" she asked and was about to saddle the horse when a voice came from behind her.

"A Girl chose poorly" the speaker's tone was irritatingly arrogant, and Beatrice could tell from the accent and bad grammar he was a foreigner.

She glanced at him from over her shoulder, the first thing to catch her attention was his hair; it was long, one side was colored red and the other white, definitely a foreigner. She turned back to her horse.

"Are you one of those homesick wanderers who start blabbing about the magical horses that are back in their homeland? Because as much as I would love my horse to ride as fast as the lightning I'm afraid I'll have to make do with the simple horses this stable has to offer" Beatrice said sarcastically.

"The horses in this stable truly are nothing compared to the ones from the man's homeland, but still a girl would do wise not to take the wrong horse" the man replied, choosing not to address her sarcasm with some of his own, though the depth of his blue eyes proved he didn't lack wisdom.

"I would have you know that this horse can ride four days straight with no water or food and with minimum rest." she raised her chin proudly.

"What a girl says is correct, but such quality in a horse would be necessary if a girl was to ride through deserts and wastelands. However, the Roseroad is full of inns as the rose if full of thrones, a girl's horse would get to rest every other mile if a girl so desires." he explained, bowing slightly at the end of his sentence as if he was trying to please a lord.

She knew he was right and was disappointed with herself for not realizing that earlier. She knew the map of Westeros by heart, and should have remembered that the Roseroad, being the second largest highway leading to King's landing would surely have villages scattered all over it.

She gave the brown horse one last pat and turned to look for another, now that she no longer searched for the strongest horse she was a bit at loss as to which horse she should choose. "What do you think?" she asked the poor stableman who gave the stranger a very dirty look.

"The road which a girl is about to take is dangerous for a young girl such as yourself, a man would suggest choosing the horse that is the fastest, so a girl could ride it to safety if needed." the foreigner answered although not being asked, but Beatrice didn't really mind as long as he was useful.

"Well, that should be easy, this one here" she turned to an odd-colored horse that gave an excited neigh when she reached him "is a courser, and is as fast as they come, in fact, this breed is better known as 'chargers' for their unnatural speed" she was eager to prove herself to him, pride was always one of her weaknesses.

"Very well then" the stranger nodded in agreement and let her proceed with the preparations for the journey. "Jaqen H'ghar is heading down to King's Landing himself and would be honored to accompany you" the stranger, whose name was apparently Jaqen H'ghar suggested, and Beatrice finally turned fully to him, a smirk on her face "You know the reason I chose the fastest horse is to avoid getting raped right?"

"Of course! Jaqen respects a girl's maidenhood and would see to it that it survives till they safely reach their destination" Jaqen almost seemed offended by her hinted accusation.

For some reason she believed him, he seemed like a man who would keep his word "What is it to you?" she only wondered.

"All that Jaqen asks for is your companionship" he said, raising his hand to his heart as if swearing his honesty.

Beatrice turned her back to him and removed the saddle from the horse yet again.

"What's a girl doing?" Jaqen required.

"A girl no longer needs the fastest horse for she found herself a bodyguard, so instead…" she took a step back so she could see all the horses, "a girl would choose a horse that would earn her respect, at King's Landing" she then marched to the end of the line where a beautiful grey horse, taller than the others stood proudly. she reached out to pat him and his black eyes studied her for a few seconds before bowing its head then nodding its agreement. "You're perfect" she whispered in the animal's ear.

From where he stood, Jaqen H'ghar smiled to himself "A girl chose wisely".

* * *

They rode quietly. Neither Beatrice nor Jaqen felt the need to engage in conversation so they let a comfortable silence fall between them as they made their way to their destination.

_Not quite the companionship I had in mind_ she thought to herself remembering that this was his declared reason for traveling with her, _Unless staring at the butt of his horse is some form of entertainment in wherever he came from_, That's a good point… Where was he from?

She asked him that several times only to receive a vague answer such as "A man if from nowhere and everywhere" or "It's not where a man came from that matters but where a man is going to", so she just let it go.

"Can we stop to rest for a bit? My hips are killing me" Beatrice asked, after she tried every possible position to ease her discomfort.

Jaqen looked around suspiciously then dismounted from his horse and tied it to a nearby tree. Beatrice did the same and tied her horse, which she named "Storm" for its grey color and intimidating appearance, next to Jaqen's one. She then sighed heavily and plumped on the nearest tree log.

"How far is it to King's Landing?" she asked grumply. They've been riding for four days now, a distance that was at least a hundred times longer than the distance between the Citadel to the neighboring town, which was the longest ride she ever took.

He raised his hand pointing to the distance, where the road seemed to be getting wooded "Kingswood, only a day ride from King's landing, a girl is close to her destination".

She looked at the direction he pointed at and felt a rush of anticipation washing over her. She wanted to get to King's Landing as fast as she could, but she didn't want to seem too eager and impatient so instead she said "I think it would be smarter not to cross the wood at night" she looked at Jaqen for approval, he simply nodded his head.

She conjured the map of King's Road in her head, closing her eyes to focus before saying "There should be an inn a little to our west, we should stay there" then doing a quick calculation in her head she also noted "We should try to get there before sunset, that gives us a long time to rest here" she closed her eyes and let herself fall to the grass behind her with a happy smile.

Jaqen remained standing, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Common Jaqen, lighten up! A man should rest from time to time" she told him.

"This place is too exposed" he said coldly.

"Would you relax? There's no one out here but us, and if there would be, it would probably be some harmless travelers like us".

Just then they've heard someone coming from the direction of the woods. Beatrice raised herself up to rest on her elbows and looked at the source of the sound.

Three figures were walking in their direction, one distinctly shorter from the others. When they got closer she noticed they were a man, a woman and a little girl.

"Ooh, they look dangerous…" Beatrice teased Jaqen. She got back to lay on her back and rolled to her side, hoping to sleep for a bit.

"You there" she suddenly heard the man calling and opened her eyes to look at the three, "Do you have some water? My daughter is thirsty".

"Yes" Beatrice said,

"No" came Jaqen answer.

She looked at Jaqen questionly "But we do have some water to spare" she whispered to him, he didn't reply, so she just rolled her eyes and called to the family "Ignore him. We have water and food and would be glad to share it with you."

"Thank you, you are very kind" the mother said when they reached them.

"It's nothing" Beatrice patted the little girl's hair as the latter drank from her waterskin, "Are you better now?" she asked. The girl nodded her head and returned the waterskin to Beatrice.

Beatrice turned her back to them and walked to the horses to tie the waterskin back to Storm's saddle when the sound of a loud scream startled her. The waterskin fell from her hand and turning back she saw the man and woman lying on the ground, their throats slit open. Jaqen towered above the bodies his face were empty of any expression. His sword was drawn and covered in blood. The little girl looked at her dead parents and then slowly raised her head to meet Beatrice's horrified eyes. The girl's expression was unreadable as she mouthed the words "The end must die" before falling to the ground, Jaqen's sword stuck in her back.

Beatrice looked at Jaqen, too scared to speak. "Why… Who…" she couldn't think, couldn't breath. Jaqen began to approach her, and instinctively her legs carried her backwards, as he got closer she retreated faster till she stumbled and fell. When he reached her he lifted his sword and she closed her eyes in fear, then when nothing happened she opened her eyes to see he sheathed his sword, his empty hand now stretched out to help Beatrice up.

She declined the offer and stood up by herself, then took a few steps back, creating a safe distance between them.

"Why did you kill these people? They were harmless!" she yelled at him.

"They weren't who they seemed" he answered softly.

"You're out of your mind!" Beatrice was terrified.

Just then a loud noise came from their left and Beatrice, already agitated, frantically searched for its source. She saw Jaqen's horse fell to the ground, its body twitching aggressively before it stopped moving completely, dead. Next to the horse was Beatrice's waterskin, the water it previously contained creating a small paddle.

"So they used poison, the cowards" Jaqen seemed enraged.

"Who are 'they'? What's going on?" she began to realize that something bigger than what she initially thought is happening.

Jaqen crouched down next to the dead woman and pulled her hand out for Beatrice to see. She noticed a tattoo of two snakes intertwined around each other in the inner part of the woman's arm.

"The Serpents" Beatrice gasped.

"Yes, a girl has a broad knowledge" Jaqen let the woman's hand fall back and got to his feet.

The Serpents were an infamous group of assassins, experts at penetrating well secured castles and passing skillful guards. Beatrice wondered why someone would pay the expensive cost of their services to assassin someone who's out in the open but there were bigger questions to answer.

"We need to continue" Jaqen approached her and grabbed her by the arm. She pulled her hand away "I'm not going anywhere with you! You have assassins after you!".

"A man thought a girl is clever. It's not _my_ water they poisoned" he pointed out and she felt a cold shiver running down her spine at the realization that he was right.

"Me? Why would they be after me? I'm a nobody" she mumbled, confused and scared, Jaqen grabbed her again, this time by the shoulders, forcing their eyes to meet, her wide emerald eyes staring at his deep blue ones.

"A man would explain everything, but first a man must get a girl to safety" she grew silent then nodded her head, letting him lead her to her horse, and helping her mount it. He then took the reins and with one last look at the pile of bodies he has left, started leading them west, to the inn.

* * *

Jaqen shut the door behind them and double checked to make sure it was locked. Beatrice stood at the window, looking outside for suspicious figures. No one caught her eye so she shut the curtain and turned to Jaqen, hugging herself with her hands.

"Alright, speak. Why were this people after me?" she demanded.

"A girl shouldn't have found out about it this way, but a girl carries an important destiny on her small shoulders" Jaqen said.

"For once, can you not speak in riddles?" she begged him.

"There's a prophecy that was made years ago of a girl who would come and would bring an end to it all, and a girl is the girl" Jaqen stated and although he clearly did his best to not introduce her with another puzzle, it hardly explained anything.

"I'm the girl from the prophecy? The girl who would bring an end to it all?" she asked, actually amused.

"Indeed, among those who know of this prophecy you're called 'The End'" Jaqen replied seriously, surprised at her amusement.

"The End… Not ominous at all" she sat on the bed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. _"The end must die_" she remembered what the young assassin said before her death. So there were others out there, beside Jaqen who believed in this prophecy and would want her dead.

"I don't believe in the occult, and that includes prophecies, destinies and so on. But even the ones who do believe could easily see I'm not really the Messiah material" she tried to explain to Jaqen as if convincing him would somehow help convincing the rest of the lunatics.

"A girl can deny her destiny, but she cannot outrun it" Jaqen told her.

"If you say so… What am I supposed to put an end to anyway?" she went along with his nonsense.

"What a girl is to end has yet to begin" was Jaqen's answer.

"And we're back to the riddles" she threw her hands in the air and suddenly felt exhausted. She got up the bed and walked to the door.

"Where's a girl going to?" Jaqen asked her.

"I need a drink" she muttered.

"It's dangerous! A man would follow" he stood up and joined her by the door.

"You just said I'm The End to who-knows-what. Why would you protect me?" she wondered.

"The End could mean humanity's doom or salvation, no one can know for sure, but regardless, a man was tasked with keeping the girl safe till she reaches her destination" he explained to her.

"So our meeting in the Citadel was not a coincidence and you're just a sellsword?" she concluded.

"A man is so much more than that" he answered enigmatically but she didn't press further. She realized she knew nothing about him, she thought of him as a friend at one point but now she no longer knew what she thought of him, or of anything for that matter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Of Dwarfs And Daughters: Chapter Four**

Once entering the main room of the inn Beatrice and Jaqen were welcomed by the sound of loud laughter. There were about fifteen men in the room, all seemed to be overly drunk. The men all circled something, or more likely, someone who sat at the far edge of the bar. Beatrice and Jaqen exchanged curious looks, and after a short conversation that was mostly consisted of facial expressions, and shoulder shrugging they got closer.

"Excuse me" Beatrice said as she tried to make her way through fat men's bellies and butts.  
She was oblivious both to the lustful looks men sent in her direction and the death glares Jaqen sent to them in return, lost in her natural curiosity.

At the center of the circle sat a man, with a girl too beautiful not to be a whore hanging on his shoulder. He was playing a game of Armies with another man who seemed as if he was about to pass out on the board, yet came back to life with a frustrated roar when he missed an opening, or had his ships sunk. Beatrice studied the man; he was well dressed, obviously not one of the commoners that surrounded him, and even though he sat on a tall chair it was obvious he was short, no, worse than that, an imp. He seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting, and balanced the audience between anger from his wins, and excitement from his generosity, when buying them all another round of drinks.

"Alright, looks like dear George here just lost the game, anyone else want to take a shot at it?" The man, whom Beatrice recognized as Tyrion of house Lannister announced as he planted a wet kiss on the whore's lips.

Beatrice quickly did the math, Tyrion Lannister was a brother to the queen, and although being known for many bad things, dishonesty wasn't one of them, or as the famous saying went "A Lannister always pays his debts", so maybe, if she defeated him in a game of Armies she could get a position in the Red Keep, that could get her access to the records' hall.

Now, the game itself, Armies; She read its rules and some techniques in a book, then played and played till she won every single maester in the Citadel, after that, with the lack of a serious opponent she abandoned the game, and considering she was fifteen at the time, that would mean she hadn't touched the game for three years now, an obvious disadvantage for her.

The rules of the games were quite complicated to grasp; the board was divided by squares, one hundred of them. The squares were divided to random groups, each with a unique color; There were green squares for wooded areas, blue for seas, grey for stone land and so on. Also, there were different shades of each color, the darker the color the lower the landscape was, and the brighter, the higher.

As for the game pieces; there were different types of pawns, each indicating a different army; A solider for the infantry, a horse for the cavalry, a ship for the fleet, a bow for the archers etc. Also, there were two bigger game pieces, shaped as castles, that were... well, the castles.

The goal was to bring down the opponent's castle while guarding your own.

Seeing as each Armies board was divided differently, the owner of the board had a great advantage, for the guest rival spent most of his time learning the board, another disadvantage which Beatrice noted to herself.

Now that she slept in almost every inn in the Roseroad she didn't have a lot of money left to spare, and since she was about to ask for something quite big she figured it wouldn't have been enough anyway. She could always give away Storm, as much as she would hate entering King's Landing like a common peasant, but it was a risk worth taking.

"I would like to play against you" she heard herself saying, and Tyrion Lannister turned to look at her.

He studied her for a minute; She was a beautiful girl, with long golden hair, and blazing green eyes. She was in average height and had nice curves for her apparent age. In fact, he wouldn't have mind replacing the whore that was next to him with that pretty little thing, had she not looked so much like his sister in her younger years, though unlike his sister, that girl didn't have a frown fixed on her face, and instead looked back at him with a wise look, he admired wisdom…

"You put me in a very uncomfortable situation" he said "'Play against me' you say, but tell me, can this end well for me? If I win, I would feel terrible for defeating a lady, and if I were to lose... Well, you can imagine what it would do to my reputation" For a minute she seemed confused than regained her composure;

"Not worse than if you were to cower from a game with a little girl such as myself" now it was her turn to see him in the loss of words, but apparently he didn't need any for he suddenly smiled mischievously and said "I'm afraid you're right. In that case, let the game begin."

Beatrice took her place in front of him while he drank another glass of wine. She took the time to study the board. It was definitely made for experts, with not too many comfortable places for setting a castle, and with some unfamiliar colored-areas. She had about two minutes to prepare Tyrion asked "Ready milady?".

"Beatrice" she corrected him, and nodded her head. He, in return, put his hand in his pocket, and drew out a respectable amount of silver stags. Beatrice wondered if he was very sure of his victory, or a typical Lannister, wasting money like water. She prayed for the latter before saying: "Keep your money, I don't need it".

He raised an eyebrow, his interest rising

"Oh, so what do you need?" he asked.

"A position in the Red Keep. Considering your title it shouldn't be too difficult to manage" she answered in a challenging tone. "and if I lose, well, I guess _you_ don't need a position in the Citadel, so I'll give you my horse; a fine, strong horse if I may say so myself" Beatrice tried her best to sound convincing, and not like a little girl trading napkins with her friends.

"The Citadel you said? So I'm dealing with an educated lady... I'll tell you what; You can keep your horse, I don't need it, in fact, I don't need anything from you. But, to make the game interesting, if you win - You can come to King's Landing as my guest, and would have everything you need there. If you lose - well, the Red Keep can use an intelligent kitchen worker." he offered, a smirk appearing on his face.

"That's a better deal than I could have hoped for. I accept! Shall we begin then?" Beatrice replied, plain and simple.

"Well, seeing as this is my board I would let you set your castle first" he offered generously, earning some cheers from the audience.

'He underestimates me!' she realized, and would have been offended if not for knowing that this underestimation can work for her benefit.

"And seeing as my lord had a considerable amount of wine I would let _him_ set his castle first" she replied on the same note. She could learn a lot from the position he chooses to his castle; the strong points of the board, his game's preferences, his tactics.

He gave her a knowing smile, took his castle, and put it in a flat land on the right corner on his side of the board. Beatrice quickly used her developed deducting skills; He was a corner-gamer, meaning he would concentrate more on guarding his castle than attacking her own (In Armies, once the castle has been placed all the pawns were positioned next to it, so choosing a corner meant being at least three or five moves away from the other corners of the board, depending on the force).

Also, when she first studied the board, she noticed a very light colored area, located in the left upper corner of the board meaning a very high area which seemed like the natural choice for a castle's location, for the archers would have a wider range there, but seeing as he didn't choose it, she gave it another look and realized that aside for being very high the ground itself was rocky, ideal for the rival's cavalry and infantry, plus, it had a streak of blue squares connecting to it, making the area accessible to an attack by the rival's fleet. All in all, a tempting yet totally useless piece of land.

As for the ground of the area Tyrion chose; it was green, which meant he could leave his cavalry there for six moves straight before he had to move them to another green land in order to 'feed the horses', necessary for a corner-gamer who might find himself under a siege. The area was surrounded with brown squares - marshlands. So her ships would be useless, and her cavalry and infantry would be significantly slowed down. She could hear Jaqen in her mind, saying "The imp chose well", though she didn't believe he was familiar with the rules of the games, seeing as he was a foreigner.

Speaking of the devil, she turned and looked at Jaqen who stood behind her, giving her half a reassuring smile. She was surprised, she didn't think he was capable of any facial expression but that suspicious glare of his.

"Alright", she mumbled, more to herself than anything, and picked up her castle. She studied the board, ruling out areas one by one till finally she chose an area right in the middle of the board, it was a stone landscape, surrounded mostly by blue area, a water shield, a permanent one since she already gave up the idea of using her ships to conquer Tyrion's castle.

She wasn't really a center-gamer, but seeing as her opponent was probably more accustomed to defense techniques it might just throw him off his balance, evening the odds if only a little.

Tyrion was impressed, of all the games he played and won that night she was the first one not to fall for the illusion of the high-area. Also, placing a castle in the middle of the board was a brave move, stupid, if made by an amateur, but somehow, he could already tell that wasn't the case, and he started worrying that he might have had too much wine for his own good.

There were a few minutes of silence, when each player set his pawns in a starting position. When they finished both Tyrion and Beatrice looked at each other's settings. None of them was really surprised. and so, the game begun.

To those who didn't understand the game it was quite boring, watching the game pieces move from one side of the board to the other, but for those who did understand, the game was an extraordinary masterpiece, always changing, always keeping you on your toes. When Beatrice got closer to Tyrion's castle, he barricaded it, and vice versa. When Tyrion defeated Beatrice's Cavalry, she repaid him by defeating his infantry, and when she managed to destroy his catapults, he sunk her ships, forcing her to gather her remaining forces in order to protect the now open castle. It was less of a game and more of a dance, with the armies being the dancers, advancing and retreating respectively.

Beatrice realized her only way to win was to let Tyrion attack her castle, creating a distraction while she moves her archers close enough to his castle. It was a risk, but one she had to take, and so, her next move was to move her infantry outside her castle, giving him the wrong impression she was about to leave her castle unprotected to rage a total attack on his. She muffled a relieved sigh when he fell for it and started moving his cavalry towards her castle. She moved her archers out of the castle as well, so sure in her victory that she noticed a minute too late what he was about to do. Instead of moving his cavalry in the direction of her castle, he chose to unite his archers with his cavalry, giving the 'new' pawn both speed and power.

Beatrice knew she had lost; It would take him a turn to get his archers/cavalry to her castle, and both her infantry and archers were at least three moves away. He tricked her.

She lowered her head in defeat, her blonde hair covering her eyes, and her hands clenching into fists... "I yield" she announced quietly. She heard the men around her cheering and shouting insults to her direction, and over all the noise she managed to hear Tyrion saying:

"Delightful! I was looking for a new cupbearer."


	5. Chapter 5

**Of Dwarfs And Daughters: Chapter Five**

Beatrice laid awake in her bed, tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep but to no avail. Jaqen was sleeping in his own bed in the far side of the room, his loud snores worsening her insomnia. She didn't blame him though, she knew men in the Citadel snored like him too, if not worse, but they had the cawing of dozens crows muffling their snores.

Thinking about the Citadel made her miss home, miss Alodin. She threw away her blanket and got out of her bed. A cold night chill ran down her spine and she sneezed in a very unladylike way, causing Jaqen to gag, then resume his snores, even louder than before. _"Just great"_ she thought as she blew a strand of hair from her face.

She reached for her bag and pulled out a medium-size, leather bound book and a writing kit. She got them both as a gift from Alodin, who gave it to her either to make her happy, or to keep her away from his own parchments, she wasn't really sure, but still, it was the best present she has ever recieved.

She opened a blank page in the book, dipped her quill in black ink and drew the two intertwined snakes the woman had tattooed on her arm, then wrote a memo for herself next to it "trust no one". She then flipped the page and on a clean one drew ten vertical lines, then ten horizontal ones, dividing the page to one hundred squares. She pulled out the other inkwells from her writing kit, each inkwell containing a different ink color. She was obsessed with it, and used to spend hours in Oldtown's forest, looking for petals and berries she might use to create new colors. Her collection now had over twenty colors and she considered it her most precious treasure.

She used the colors to create a replica of Lord Tyrion's Armies board, all from her memory, then started replaying the moves in her head one by one, writing down some remarkable moves made by herself or by Tryion, finally she got to the most important move; the one where Tyrion united his archers and cavalry. Oh, how she hated herself for falling in his trap, she mentally kicked herself so many times that herself begged her to stop, but she simply couldn't. How, in the name of the seven, did she not see that coming?

She had no way of knowing that in the upper floor of the inn, in a room far more luxurious than hers someone else was replaying that exact same move.

* * *

Tyrion laid in a queen size bed, thinking about the last game he played; That final move was a genius one indeed, but he would have never taken it if not for knowing that Beatrice was way too smart to truly rage a total attack on his castle. Knowing your opponent was just as important as knowing your board, and Tyrion played against maesters, lords and warlords, none of them demonstrated such a great ability of seeing the bigger picture as this girl have. Plus, he was impressed that she was even familiar with force-uniting moves,

He felt like he could sympathize with the girl; They both had obvious weaknesses: his was his disability, hers was her bastardy (a fact he assumed about her considering she told him she came from the Citadel, where no one would put his child unless it was an unwanted one), and they both used wisdom as their shield against people who tried to take advantage of them.

Perhaps it was a wishful thinking, but he thought that unlike other people she didn't focus on his disfigured appearance, and instead paid more attentions to his words and actions. Not many people were able to do that, as he was painfully aware. The whore he was spending the night with was a good example of that; when awake and fully conscious she managed to hide her disgust, and do her job with a smile, but the moment she fell asleep she instinctively pulled herself away from him, cuddling in blankets at the far edge of the bed, her body choosing the cold over the warmth it might have found in his short arms.

His thoughts went back to Beatrice.

He used to say he had a tender spot in his heart for cripples and bastards and broken things, and because of that tender spot he was willing to offer Beatrice to come to King's Landing as his guest anyway if not for the pride he was certain she possessed, and besides, she would probably be more entertaining than his former cupbearer, who understood only three words in the common tongue, "more" and "wine" being two of them and the third word a curse he wasn't even sure _was_ in the common tongue. Yes, definitely a refreshment.

Eventually both Tyrion and Beatrice managed to fall asleep, giving their sharp minds the rest they deserved.

* * *

When Beatrice woke up Jaqen wasn't anywhere to be found she looked for him around the inn till she found him in the stables, standing with his back turned to her, untying the reins of a random horse.

"So now you're a thief too?" she asked, if he was startled he hid it pretty well. He turned to her, a smile on his face.

"A girl no longer needs a man's protection. You'll be safe with the lord's guards" he assured her.

"Safe? I don't even know him" she said _"though I don't really know you either"_ she admitted to herself.

"The girl and the imp's paths lie together" Jaqen H'ghar claimed as he mounted his new horse.

"You arrogant know it all, I guess it's goodbye then" she reached forward and patted his horse.

"Goodbye. A man knows his road would cross again with yours and hope to be on the same side as you when that day comes" he said with a nod of his head and urged the horse to gallop out of the stables, leaving Beatrice behind.

She heard someone from the outside crying out "My horse! Thief" and smiled to herself as Jaqen H'ghar turned and winked at her before riding away.

* * *

Tyrion watched his new cupbearer riding beside him. She looked beautiful at day as much as she did at night, her hair shining in the sun, her eyes occasionally reflecting the light. Riding on the back of her tall, magnificent horse she looked more impressive than he could ever hope to be.

He realized she was looking around suspiciously, the smallest of noises seemed to terrify her. When she leaped from her saddle to the sound of a rattle from a nearby bush, only to find out it was a hare, he finally broke and asked her "Are you a runaway prisoner or something?".

She studied him for a minute, "That's an interesting saddle, milord" she chose to change to subject and he decided not to pry… for now.

"Yes, it's custom made, to allow an imp like me to ride" he explained.

"I see, the weights down here are to pull the rider down and keep him on the horse?" she pointed at the sides of the saddle.

"Indeed, aren't you a clever girl. They teach you well in the Citadel" he said, trying to bring the subject back to her.

"I guess" she said and grew silent again.

"_Was worth the try"_ Tyrion thought to himself and let her be for the time being.

* * *

"Ah! King's Landing. Home sweet wasp nest" Tyrion exclaimed after some more time of quiet riding.

Beatrice, who was lost in her thoughts lifted her head and saw the gates of the city before her.

"It's beautiful" she whispered to herself.

"From afar maybe" Tyrion, who heard her, commented "I'm going to need a lot of wine. Consider yourself warned".


	6. Chapter 6

**Of Dwarfs And Daughters: Chapter Six**

Jaime Lannister never paid any attention to the maids in the Red Keep. Not just because of his position in the Kingsguard, but because gossip spread like fire in the courtyard, and if his sister was to hear that he so much as glanced at a maid, well, god help the poor woman.

But that specific morning, walking down a corridor, he had to do a double take when a young maid passed by him with a small bow. She was strikingly beautiful, yes, but that's not why he stopped. The girl reminded him so much of his sister in her younger years it was unsettling. He didn't recall hearing anything about a Lannister relative arriving at the Red Keep, plus, her clothes were not fitting for a noble woman, or a woman at all, with a used-to-be-white tunic, brown leather pants, and short leather boots.

He kept studying her as she walked away, then, shaking his head he walked away himself, making a mental note to find out who she was.

* * *

Beatrice's hands were numb from tilting the wine pitcher whenever Tyrion needed a refill of his cup. She switched the pitcher from hand to hand, shaking her palms, trying to speed up the blood circulation. _And it's not even lunch time_ she thought bitterly. Just then, Tyrion held up his cup for her to fill it again. She rolled her eyes and carried out the wordless command. _Patience, Beatrice. At this rate he would die of Cirrhosis of the liver in no time_ she told herself.

Just then a knock was heard on the door.

"Come in" Tyrion called, his eyes never once leaving the book he was reading.

A servant walked in "Milord, Breakfast is served".

"What of it? I eat in my room, you know that".

"I do, Milord, but word goes around that the king's about to make an announcement regarding Lord Arryn's death" the servant explained.

"Ah, our late King's hand. I suppose it has been long enough since the last time I had the pleasure of meeting my dear brother in law. Alright" Tyrion threw a golden coin at the young man's direction who fumbled his hands to catch it, then excused himself and ran away.

"Beatrice, fetch me my clothes" Tyrion ordered.

"Sire, I'm your _cupbearer_" Beatrice reminded him, emphasizing the last word.

"Oh yes, I forgot" Tyrion snapped his finger "Take the pitcher with you _while_ you fetch my clothes".

Beatrice took a very deep breath "Yes, Milord".

* * *

Standing behind Tyrion's chair, Beatrice began to realize she should appreciate her master more. All around her hand maids and personal servants ran around, serving their lords and ladies quietly, almost like ghosts. They would fill cups, load plates, clear dirty dishes, all in complete silence, then back away to the shadows, awaiting their next task.

While Tyrion didn't hesitate to assign her tasks by the dozens, he treated her better than the rest of the nobility did their inferiors. He would quietly point at people around them and tell her about them.

At the moment he was pointing on two men who stood within their earshot. The two looked like complete opposites of one another, one being fat and bold, the other skinny and sporting a goatee.

"Don't get too close to those two or you'll be covered in grease" Tyrion noted then continued "Lord Petyr Baelish and Varys, better known as Littlefinger and The Spider".

"I should come up with a nickname for myself before someone else chooses one for me" Beatrice noted in faked-fear.

"No worries, I already came up with one… Whiner" Tyrion told her, sending her an amused look.

"Because I bring you your wine?" she wondered.

"And because you whine… a lot…" Tyrion delivered the pun with an annoyed expression.

"Beats being called The End" Beatrice mumbled.

"What was that?" Tyrion asked.

"Nothing".

Tyrion and Beatrice both went silent so they could hear what the men were talking about.

"My little birds whispered to me that our king has already decided who his next right hand would be" Varys told Baelish in a tipping tone.

"Not someone from the current Small Council so I've heard…" Littlefinger dropped a piece of information of his own.

"Yes, I believe our king is about to go on a short trip." Varys continued.

"A trip to the north" Littlefinger concluded…

"I once read a book about mating habits in animals" Beatrice noted "when I hear these two talk, a drawing from that book, of two baboons showing off their red butts in order to intimidate each other comes to mind" she continued.

"And with that wonderful image in mind, my meal is done, you may clear my plate" Tyrion complained but was obviously enjoying the accurate metaphor.

"I'm your cupbearer, sire" she corrected him, but nevertheless leaned forward to take his plate and handed it to a passing kitchen worker.

"I shan't bother you any longer, your whores must be waiting for you" Varys crossed his arms, burying them in the wide sleeves of his garment.

"Thank you, I shall let you know first thing tomorrow what making love to a woman feels like" Littlefinger delivered the comeback with a warm smile.

"It might sound a bit far-fetched but I get the feeling they don't like each other that much" Beatrice whispered, shielding her mouth with the back of her hand so that only Tyrion could hear.

"Why you are very observant, and they were trying so hard to hide it too" Tyrion put a hand to his heart, as if in awe.

"Nothing gets past me" she went along with his sarcasm, raising her chin in a proud manner.

A rough voice suddenly roared as the king stood up, his legs unsteady "Now listen you babbling bumbling buffoons…"

"Charming" Tyrion mumbled as Beatrice tried to repeat 'babbling bumbling buffoons' three times in her head only to find it's quite the challenge.

"The only bastard in this city I could trust decided to drop dead, leaving me with you leeches. There's only so much shit a king can take on his own. Tomorrow, I shall ride to personally appoint my new right hand. Long live the poor bastard" the king raised his goblet to his lips and downed it all in one gulp, some drops found their way to his beard and he wiped them with the back of his hand.

"Charming indeed" Tyrion said once again then turned to his cupbearer "Pack whatever you've unpacked Beatrice, we're heading north".

* * *

_A/N: I'm back!_


	7. Chapter 7

Edit is pretty much finished.

I recommend the old readers to read it again as much have changed.

and to the new readers (and the old ones): Enjoy and please review. Would love to know what you think.

More to come soon.


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